


Warmth

by sp_aceventura



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blanket Fic, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Jean isn't an asshole, Jearmin - Freeform, Letters, Light Angst, Long Distance Pining, M/M, Older Characters, One Shot Collection, Sleepy Cuddles, Winter, its cute i promise, long distance, mostly canon, slight epistolary fic, this started as a one shot but kind of turned into something bigger, whatever you can read each as their own thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp_aceventura/pseuds/sp_aceventura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin always feels inadequate when it comes to his peers - they offer to carry his things, to share his blanket, to help him with whatever he wants.  As nice as this sounds, Armin hates how much damage it does to his pride.  Still, when he refuses Eren's offer to share a blanket during a particularly cold night, Armin is left to freeze.  Until Jean decides to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> wowow this is really short im sorry. Mayybe I'll make it longer?? We'll see. This doesn't make sense at all but at least its sort of cute. oh well. help me not be Jearmin trash no. 5

The night was too cold to be warded off by the roughspun blankets that the Survey Corps gave their soldiers. Armin bitterly regretted not taking up Eren’s offer to sleep by him; though at least he still had some dignity left. He noted, with a gentle huff, that most of his peers still regarded him as a child, or at the very least, weak and fragile - while they only seemed to value him for his brains. 

Every time someone offered to carry something for him, or when he received offers to help with whatever, Armin’s pride diminished. It wasn’t that he would be better off without the help, or that he could totally do it himself, it was that he’d rather prove, for some reason that he could help himself. Even if he couldn’t. 

Take Armin’s shivering during the night. It could easily be remedied by shared body warmth - he knew many people who shared blankets and beds without it being sexual - but Armin would much rather tough it out. He’d rather prove it to himself. He was tired of being a burden. 

But even now, Armin’s pride stuck in his throat. Why did he say he could do without Eren’s help? A slight gust of wind blew up the blanket, coating Armin with another layer of shivers. Most nights Armin ended up fine, but this one? This was the coldest it had felt in a long time. 

Another bout of shivers overtook Armin and he quietly swore to himself. It was too bad that Eren slept elsewhere… Armin bit into his blanket to keep his teeth from chattering too loudly and immediately spat out a fluff ball. That was a stupid idea. He would have to keep his chattering teeth under control. 

Hours could have passed, but time was lost to the freezing soldier. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, Armin wiggled around on his little roll, desperate to find a better, warmer sleeping position. 

“Damn,” he swore again, this time daring to be louder. None of his peers who slept nearby would hear anyways, they were all fast asleep. Or - The sound of another blanket sliding around make Armin freeze. It was coming from next to him - Jean. Armin held his breath, hoping that Jean was merely asleep and rolling over. 

“Armin?” It seemed that was not the case. Jean’s voice was bleary and rough from having just awoken. Armin shivered again and continued to hold his breath. “Armin are you awake?” 

Armin rolled over to face Jean. “Unfortunately,” he whispered. 

Jean’s golden eyes glinted under the stars as he wiggled his hands out of his blanket. A few seconds passed before he spoke again. Armin tried to hold off the next attack of shivers but to no avail. Jean saw right through his feeble attempt. “Too cold for you Arlet?” 

“I can handle it.” 

It was Jean’s smirk that warmed Armin’s toes. “You don’t look like you can.” 

Armin glared and huffed sharply. His annoyance turned his voice sour. “I’d rather not listen to you speak if you aren’t saying anything meaningful.” 

As Armin made a move to dive back under his freezing blanket, Jean’s hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The warmth of it radiated even through Armin’s clothes and the stupid blanket. “Armin -” Armin only looked at him in acknowledgement. Jean’s eyebrows were drawn in something between concern and confusion. “I won’t say anything if you want to share a blanket.” 

Armin’s eyebrow twitched. “Is that a promise for afterwards or during?” 

“Both,” Jean said. His quiet chuckle was muffled by his blanket. 

“As long as it’s a promise.” 

A moment passed before Jean slowly nodded. He silently lifted up his blanket and Armin shuffled himself inside like human cocoon. As Jean’s arm wrapped around him and Armin buried himself into Jean’s chest, he could feel the warmth returning to his body. 

Jean’s breathing deepened and when it had reached a point that was almost snoring, Armin said, “Thanks,” as quietly as he could. The smug little smirk on Jean’s face told him that Armin was very welcome to share a blanket anytime he liked. 

At least, Armin thought, huddling for warmth with someone as insufferable as Jean didn’t force his pride down his throat as sharply as it would've if Armin had taken Eren's offer. At least Jean wasn’t going to tell anybody. At least Armin was warm and happy. Armin let himself fall asleep, warm. Whatever was left of his pride could wait - at least until sunrise. 


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two years since Armin shivered his way into Jean's blanket. Alas, all good things must come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops i turned a happy one-shot into a two-shot with angst. sorry not sorry.

Two years. Two years of this. And somehow, they were both still alive. Armin, for one, was amazed that none of their comrades had noticed, or at least said nothing if they had. It wasn’t as if the tight living quarters gave room for secrets - hell, there was barely enough room for both Armin and Jean to be under the same blanket.  


People had noticed the new form of friendship between the two, yes. For most of them the realization that Jean and Armin were close friends came as gradual as their relationship. For some, it hit them with the force of 3DMGing straight into a wall.  


That’s about the noise Eren made when he realized that Armin didn’t hate Jean like he did. Sort of a sputtering, red-faced, breathless kind of noise that had him doubling over both in laughter and in pain. Armin couldn’t quite realize what was so funny about the situation - Eren’s brain connected the friendship between the two of them when he saw them eating breakfast, quietly chatting and laughing to themselves. It didn’t matter anyways, because ‘friends’ was all the rest of the Survey Corps thought they were.  


It wasn’t completely one thing or another, but whatever it had started out as was a habit. At first, Armin’s pride smarted every time he crawled under Jean’s covers. He wanted to hate himself for becoming reliant on the warmth and comfort, for looking forward to the luxury of having someone to share his bed with, for relying on Jean. He wanted to hate everything about the situation but Armin never found it within himself to do anything but smile when he thought of the cozy nights he spent wrapped in Jean and a tattered blanket.  


That particular night, after around two years of the comfort of Jean - the endless witty, biting, incessantly infuriating and intriguing remarks, the ease between the two of them, the humming Armin felt in his hands and feet when Jean silently pressed his lips to his hair, his hands, his cheeks, his mouth - Armin was scared. Tomorrow would soon come, and though he didn’t want to believe it, Armin knew that they would have to leave the safety net of the blanket. Tomorrow they would both be out of this barracks and into another. Or, more specifically, into different barracks. Somehow, and for some reason, both Jean and Armin had been elected as new Team Leaders in different squads.  


Jean was the most nervous Armin had ever seen him when Commander Erwin called them both into his office. For one moment, there was inexplicable panic that he had found out about the two of them, though they had never done anything wrong. Armin had watched Jean’s steely smirk crumble and fall, his eyes glaze over - like he was building barricades in his mind to prepare himself for the torrent of shit about to hit the metaphorical ceiling.  


And then, instead of being chewed out for sharing a blanket, Armin and Jean found themselves at the mercy of a very long roundabout speech that talked more about the consequences if they did not live up to their expectations than what they were actually going to be doing. Erwin had a strange way of telling people they had earned his respect. Although, Armin thought, maybe it was just with him and Jean. Mikasa too had been promoted to a Team Leader position and Armin had heard that Commander Erwin didn’t even call her to his office - he just walked up to her in the mess hall and told her right on the spot.  


Jean shifted behind Armin, his gentle breath fanning the smaller man’s hair. Armin revelled in the feeling of air on the back of his neck. His hair had gotten longer over the past couple of months - now it almost touched his shoulders - and as a result missed feeling the breeze kiss his neck. Still, Armin wasn’t completely missing out - he had Jean to do that now. And though Armin wouldn’t dare to admit it, he liked the feeling that came with Jean tangling his hands in his hair far more than the feeling any small gust of wind could give him.  


“Armin?” Jean’s sleepy murmur cut through the night silence.  


Armin twisted around to face Jean, careful to limit the noise of the rustling blanket. “You’re awake?”  


When Jean flashed his tired smirk Armin felt his heart stutter. “You were thinking too loudly; it woke me up.”  


A soft huff from Armin tickled Jean’s chin. They lay there for a few more moments before Armin spoke. “I don’t want to leave this. I don’t want to leave you. Who can say what will happen once we go? What if -”  


“Armin,” Jean said quietly, gently, insistently. “There have always been ‘what if’s, and I joined the Survey Corps knowing that. You did too.”  


Armin wanted to bury himself in Jean’s arms. He wanted curl up into his friend, his lover, his Jean and never let him go. “That was different,” Armin whispered. “We weren’t like this then. We hadn’t seen all those deaths yet - all of our friends dying. We didn’t know what this was like.”  


“You’re right. But even if we do - even if we die - I just -” Jean’s voice cut off as they both stared down the abyss of what could be.  


Armin kissed him then. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed before, hadn’t stolen time in between chores and meals, hadn’t hidden themselves away in locked closets - but never before had they been so afraid of the next day.  


The kiss was warm and soft and sweet compared to the usual intensity of their endeavors. They lingered there for a moment, both trying to memorize the other. Something sombre lurked under the kiss, right below the small hopeful smiles they offered each other. Quiet snoring from a comrade made the two stiffen and Armin pulled back before he could get too carried away with their loudness. It was always difficult to end a kiss - Jean was the sort of person Armin liked to get swept up in.  


“Don’t die,” Armin said.  


Jean pulled Armin close to him, tucking his head down to meet the crook between Armin’s neck and shoulders. “I won’t. You can’t either.”  


As Jean’s hands twisted themselves into Armin’s hair Armin felt a crack in his resolve form and then fix itself, quickly as it came. “Is this a promise?”  


“It’s a promise. I promise.” Everything about Jean was warm.  


Armin sighed into Jean, letting himself sink into Jean’s heat and comfort and safety one last time. “I promise too.” At least they had one night longer. At least they hadn’t died yet. At least they were warm and happy for one more night.

 

They would’ve stayed in each other’s arms until morning without moving if Jean hadn’t dared to ask, “So, who’s keeping the blanket?”  
Armin would’ve hit him harder if he hadn’t been half asleep already.


	3. Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin, like always, is having a little trouble sleeping; it seems his mind is running amok. Of course, the only solution is Jean, but what if Jean isn't there?
> 
> Basically, angst and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops again, I made this longer. I'm enjoying all of this angst though. yay for angst! also, just in case you won't catch it, Armin and Jean are totally using the blankets as metaphors because they don't really want everyone to know outright that they're dating. even though everyone p much probably already knows. And also the blankets aren't metaphors at the same time. They're very passionate about blankets, ok guys?

It was in the dark that Armin’s thoughts would finally find some stillness. Under light, they churned much too quickly for him to ever pause, to ever take a break from thinking. There was no time to catch his breath in the day, every second and minute he was given he had to live like it was his last. Time was more precious than everything else in the world, after all. Nighttime just happened to be the only time when nothing happened. Well, nothing but the cold. Even as Armin lay wrapped in layers of blankets, in a warm roof out of reach from the stars and frigid air, he was cold. The air beside him had turned to ice without the presence of Jean. 

Even though night was the only time that Armin could let his mind rest, he hated it more than the day. During the day, he had just enough time to think and strategize, to command his squad. The day was already full of thoughts that had to be thought and had no room for anything else. But the night - the night was still and empty and waiting to be filled with thoughts of Jean.

Armin could imagine Jean there with him now - folding his arms around Armin’s waist, sleepily brushing his lips against the back of his neck, his soft breath stirring Armin’s long hair. A long-held breath escaped from Armin’s lips with a huff as he tried to bury himself deeper under the blankets. Jean was always behind him in Armin’s mind; it had been too long since he had seen his face. Sometimes, Armin would lie paralyzed at night wondering if the distant memory of Jean would fade long before they saw each other again, or if Armin’s cloudy memory would be the only thing he would have of Jean until he too died. 

Armin tried not to wonder what was going on in Jean’s head before he slept. He did anyways. Did Jean worry like Armin did? Was Jean cold too? Did he miss Armin? The letters they sent back and forth were not enough, could not come even close to the simple pleasure of having Jean near. 

A thought struck Armin and he sat up suddenly, glad that his squad had given him privacy to sleep. It was easier to be lonely on your own anyways. He fumbled in the dark, reaching for his candle for a few quick seconds before walking blindly to where the door stood. Outside flickered torch light.

Armin pulled open the door and lit the candle on the torch. Where had he last left them? He tugged at extra uniform shirt that he had folded and put away in his bag. A few sheets of paper, worn from the weather and with wrinkle lines painstakingly smoothed out, slipped free of the pocket. 

With a sigh, Armin let himself sit heavily on his makeshift bed, placing the candle down so that he could curl his free hand in his blankets. His other rested on his knee, thumbing the corner of the letters. The most recent one lay on top, it’s paper brighter and cleaner than the rest. 

_Squad Leader Artlert,_

_I hope you receive this letter alive and well. I trust that the weather outside Wall Rose isn’t too cold for you - after all, your hair must be long enough to be your own personal blanket by now. (I’m honestly surprised you haven’t violated any rules about hair length yet.) Not to mention you stole my blanket. My blanket. I can’t believe you stole it. I was going to keep that; it kept me warm for so many months last year and now I don’t have anything to wrap myself in. Well, I do, but it’s nowhere near as fluffy and warm as that blanket._

_Still, I suppose you need it more than me. I bet you carry a stack of blankets with you at all times just in case you feel a shiver coming on. And knowing you, your squad members must have offered to let you borrow theirs at least once._

_I’m not going to think about that. Good luck with whatever the assignment was that the Commander gave you. I’m still hurt they never let me in on that secret. I’m still hurt that the Commander hasn’t disclosed your exact location to me and that I have to write each letter knowing that other people will read these. I can’t believe I finally have a chance to expose Connie’s stuffed animal collection. (He keeps them under his pillow and they’re all ridiculously adorable and fluffy.)_

_Perhaps the hardest thing is not knowing whether or not you responded to me - or even received these letters._

_Artlet, I’m not even sure if you’re still alive or if I’m writing to a dead man and I know it’s because it’s just a little hard to deliver letters in the middle of winter to the middle of nowhere but please, please, if you can just write me back. Write me something. I don’t even care if you send it - well actually I do - but just write something soon so even if you do die you won’t leave me hanging. Don’t leave me hanging, old friend. Oh and don’t forget: you promised your friends that you would keep safe. That even means sleeping enough; we don’t want to be falling asleep while fighting titans. I’ll see you soon. Don’t forget about your friends._

_Squad Leader Kirstein_

By the time Armin had finished, his already pathetic candle had begun to sputter, sending tendrils of smoke up into the stuffy air of the house. All of the windows had been closed and Armin was sure one of his squad members had already lit a fire somewhere in the abandoned mansion they were commandeering. The entire thing smelt of smoke and dust. 

Still, despite the warmth of the house and Jean’s letter, a shiver made its way down Armin’s back. The bed beside him was even more empty by candlelight. Armin felt a fierce impulse surge through him and he immediately thrust his arm out and pinched the candle wick, leaving him in the dark. 

Armin shoved the candle away from him and carefully tried his best to fold the letters up and place them back in his other uniform. He could hear his breath; he was painfully aware that it was the only noise he could hear. In the dark at least he could pretend that Jean was somewhere beside him and not somewhere very far away. 

Armin pulled the blankets over his head, staring at the ceiling. It was almost like Jean was here now, leaning over him with a small smile, kissing his forehead, whispering at him to sleep. Armin’s eyes pulled themselves shut at the image while his hands twisted themselves further into the blankets. 

It really was much too cold to sleep without Jean here, but he’d have to try. He had a promise to keep after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading !! please leave a comment and feedback - I love hearing from you guys!!!


	4. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Armin's letters to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, at this point I'm not even mad at myself. I'm so far gone. So far.

_Squad Leader Jean,_

_I must admit that the weather is a bit cold - your blanket only really helps a little. And don’t laugh, but I do have to use another blanket on the coldest nights. Don’t worry though; it’s only my own._

_On the subject of my hair, while it must be infinitely warmer than yours, I still find it difficult to see so I have taken to tying it up. Although this does rid me of the problem of getting hair in my eyes, it makes me long to be able to wear a blanket as a part of my uniform. I’d rather not cut it as a few friends have advised against it so I hope you won’t mind if I use your blanket for this - I mean it’s already seen more horrors than any other blanket in the entire Survey Corps so I’m sure it could handle a few titans. (By horrors I mean your frequent episodes in which you repeatedly punch yourself in the face whilst sleeping and wake up with blood and snot dripping from your nose. Naturally.) I’m glad you reminded me that these letters are often looked over in case one of us discloses crucial top secret information._

_I’ve also been continuing to test the warmth of your blanket as compared to mine and I’ve found that they are both warmest when used in conjunction. My blanket seems to be much colder than yours when used by itself, however. Perhaps I’ll have it sent to you so you can test out it’s sub-optimal coziness yourself. I am not willing to part with your blanket, but for the sake of justice I think that my chilly blanket would be a fair trade for your snot-covered one._

_Due to the secrecy of my mission and the general nowhere-ness of my squad, I’m not quite sure these letters will ever send. Even if I don’t end up sending my blanket (I’ll admit it; it is cold here and I am shivering as I write this) I suppose I’ll have to deliver these letters myself. Just so that they don’t get eaten by a bear or swallowed by snow. I’ll try not to show up with unannounced._

_From,_

_Artlert_

_PS. My squad has now taken my sleep schedule into their hands. I am to be in bed every night by 11pm, or else. If I even so much as yawn during the day my squad threatens to drop the mission for nap time. Jean, if you had something to do with this I swear on the beast titan’s hairy chest I’m telling your squad about that night with the bugs._

\---------------------------

_Artlert,_

_As much as I would love to have justice for my stolen blanket, I think you should keep yours. I can only imagine what the outside of Wall Rose is like in the middle of February._

_Shame on you for making fun of the beast titan’s hairy chest when your own hair must be down to your waist by now. I imagine you would look quite similar by now._

_That reminds me - the other day Hanji was showing me some old relics they found and I thought of you. There was this one story about a man who fell asleep under a tree and woke up decades later and I just couldn’t stop laughing because I kept thinking, That’s such an Armin thing to do. I mean, I don’t know anyone else who is constantly drowsy, has overgrown hair, and is the owner of many creaking limbs!_

_I’m glad your squad has the courage to stand up to Humanity’s Bravest Soldier. That’s what Eren called you, isn’t it? Give them all a pat on the back for me. And hey: stop blaming me when people start looking after your well-being. Other people do care about you, you know. Besides, I’m only allowed to send one letter to your squad at a time. I haven’t the faintest idea who would frighten your squad enough to send you to bed so early. Really._

_By the way - I hope Eren’s letter reached your hideout safely. He told me he sent one a while ago, but you never mentioned it in your letter so I thought maybe it had gotten lost in the snow…? Come home soon. We all miss you._

_‘Squad Leader Jean’_

\---------------------------

_Jean Kiss-my-ass-stein,_

_I know it was you. I found the incriminating letter - or should I say letters. My squad apparently is not thorough enough to burn the ‘top secret documents’ that ‘Eren’ sends them. Don’t even try to get out of this one, I know you’ve been using Eren’s letter quota to send instructions to baby me. I know what your handwriting looks like, and I have other letters to compare it to. I’m keeping this blanket for **good**. _

\---------------------------

Armin ripped off the rest of his letter. He couldn’t send the rest of it. Not when all it said was, _“I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you. So much.”_

He couldn’t let others read what was only meant for Jean. Not even when it was a security precaution. Something akin to sadness and guilt washed over him slowly, as the paper shredded easily in Armin’s hands. It burned quicker than he wrote it. It was a piece of lost time. Armin held the papers over the candle a good moment longer than he needed to after they caught fire, letting the tongues of flame lap at his fingers like an emboldened stray kitten at a bowl of milk. 

Armin tried not imagine that the warmth in his fingers as Jean. He tried not to imagine how hot his hands always were and how gently they slid over his and encased them in soft fire. He tried not to imagine the quiet brush of Jean’s shirt against his own as they stood face to face, as they folded their arms around each other like they always did after a long day. Armin tried so hard not to think about Jean’s hands, full of their warmth, painting flames at the back of Armin’s neck and sparking light as they tangled in Armin’s hair. 

He was almost done here. In a week, the experiments and reports would be done. In two weeks, Jean would no longer be just a thought. Jean would no longer be lost time and Armin would no longer burn with the coldness of isolation.


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Armin are together at last. My children. ;u;

Armin had been dancing for the past two hours.  Not literally - but he had been carefully avoiding all things Jean since he arrived back at base.  All through dinner he sat with his friends and made jokes and yes he talked to Jean but he couldn’t look at him the way he wanted to, the way he had done before when they were hidden under blankets and in the dark.  

Under the mess table, their feet danced more.  It was an intoxicating game of accidental nudges and slow toe pokes; invisible to every other eye.  Jean had caught Armin’s eye once when his foot ‘accidentally’ brushed against Armin’s calf and it had taken all of Armin’s willpower not to wrestle him into a blanket then and there for some heavy duty I-missed-you cuddling.  

Finally, their friends got tired.  Mikasa went to bed first, claiming a long day filled with all the hard work that Levi could scrounge up for her.  Sasha and Connie went next, food-stuffed and flopping about.  And then it was Eren who left.  He grinned lazily through his yawn, his eyelashes fluttering.  “Glad you’re home, ‘Min,” he mumbled as he pressed his face against Armin’s shoulder before stumbling off to his quarters.  

“I am too,” Armin had said, and meant it. 

Jean looked at Armin.  He smiled.  Armin smiled.  It was as if no time had passed at all when they stepped into Jean’s room.  The door closed behind them and they fell into each other.  

Not much was said for most was unspoken.  Their words were carried through sighs and squeezes, whispers were made into the wiping away of tears, every kiss a shout of joy.  There were hands in hair, arms around waists, and lips on everything else.  

Jean broke the holy silence.  “I missed you,” he said.  “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.”  Over and over and over and over again.  

Armin smiled and let Jean bury his face in the crook of his neck.  “You,” Armin gasped, pausing to laugh breathlessly as Jean blew a raspberry.  “You are the warmest thing I’ve touched all year.”

“And I’ve been waiting to touch you all year.”  Jean traced kisses along Armin’s jaw.  Armin chuckled giddily as Jean’s fingers skittered down from his hair to his waist, poking between his ribs.  

“Jean!” he puffed in between giggles.

“It’s been far too long since I last saw you laugh,” Jean murmured, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.  Armin proceeded to be tickled until his lungs ached and both he and Jean were rolling on the floor wheezing and hysterical.  

“I missed you too,” Armin said when his breath returned to his body.  There was a heartbeat of just two men lying winded on the floor together before they turned to each other.  Jean’s eyes were like pools of honey and amber when he looked over, trapping Armin and refusing to let him go. Something tugged at the bottom of Armin’s stomach and warmth flooded his cheeks. Suddenly, Armin was aware of how cold the floor was against his back.  

Jean sat up, offering a hand to Armin.  “The bed is much softer than the floor, you know.”

Armin tried to read the twinkle in his eyes.  Jean’s eyebrow quirked as he watched Armin study his face carefully.  Eventually Armin cracked a smile under the weight of the staring contest.  “You’re just tired,” he teased and let Jean pull him up.  He could see it under Jean’s eyes and in the slow stretch of his limbs now, but only there.  Jean’s gaze and smile were leisurely and warm, his eyes spilling over Armin‘s body and making lazy loops from his lips to his eyes. 

“Not of you,” Jean said as they pulled themselves over to the bed.  “Never of you.”  It was his turn to watch his partner, who leaned back into the pillows lazily.  “If I had to choose between you and my bed, I’d never sleep again.”

“That can’t be good for you,” Armin said and frowned, but pulled Jean up to kiss him anyways. Jean grabbed Armin’s hip and flipped their positions so that Armin was now below him. Their lips fell together again and then apart and Jean’s hot breath traced a trail to the base of Armin’s throat. His mouth lingered there for a heartbeat before Jean looked back up at his lover.

When Jean’s mouth opened at the sight and his small smirk grew into a smile, Armin shook his head and ran a hand through Jean’s already tousled hair, pulling him back up to kiss.  “You’re better for me than any sleep I’ll ever get,” Jean hummed against Armin’s lips. Armin stroked his cheek with his thumb.  “I can’t be better for you than sleep, but sleeping with you is certainly better than sleeping alone.”  He paused to hold Jean’s face with his hands.  “Now, no more love letter talk.  I’ve had enough of that to last me seven winters.” 

“What would you have me do then, Artlert?”

“If you would please, Squad Leader Kirstein,” Armin whispered and kissed Jean’s forehead, “Let’s just sleep.  My blanket has been incredibly lonely.”

Jean smoothed back Armin’s hair from his forehead and replied, “Anything you want.” He then leaned off the bed to grab Armin’s blanket roll (which had been placed in the room rather surreptitiously sometime shortly after he arrived at the base) and unfurled it; a triumphant flag of their union.

The candles were blown out and the blanket wrapped around both of their bodies tightly. Armin buried himself into the crook of Jean’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Jean and never wanting to let go. He inhaled Jean like it was the last air he would ever breathe and listened to their heartbeats. It had been so long that this felt like a dream. The air between them was reminiscent of their beginning and yet something new entirely. An old promise fell between them. 

Jean lay staring at the darkened ceiling, tangled in Armin. It was not a dream, he told himself again. They were both here, safe and snug. Something cold slipped out of the warmth they shared and down his cheek. Armin stiffened at Jean’s sniffle. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked and touched Jean’s face uncertainly. When his hand came away wet, he wiped away the tears.

It was impossible to see but Armin could feel Jean’s smile when they kissed. “I missed you,” Jean said. “It’s been so cold.”

Armin’s response came like a prayer. “I know. I’m here.” Jean’s hand found his and tightened around Armin’s fingers. “I’ll keep you warm.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS FINISHED!! I'm so sorry it took so long but you know how school goes; its mostly screaming. Anyhoo I hope you liked it :)


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